


Black Cats and Coffee

by mischiefgoddesscomplex, purplefangirlmommy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischiefgoddesscomplex/pseuds/mischiefgoddesscomplex, https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplefangirlmommy/pseuds/purplefangirlmommy
Summary: Steve Rogers likes to run by the cemetery in the morning, Darcy Lewis likes to cast spells inside of it. Both are newbies to their New England neighborhood.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis & Steve Rogers, Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Comments: 32
Kudos: 114
Collections: Marching Orders





	1. Chapter 1

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/187610925@N03/49705585042/in/dateposted-public/)


	2. Chapter 2

New England autumns were a different kind of magic.

Growing up in the heart of Brooklyn, Steve Rogers never really got the full effect. Never got to see the way the trees suddenly explode with vibrant reds and golds. He took a field trip to an apple orchard one year in elementary school, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the autumnal wonderland. Spent half the day sitting on the hill sketching the landscape, and decided right then and there that when he grew up, he never wanted to miss another season like that. 

It’s a crisp day in late-August when Steve moves out of the city and into a house in upstate New York with his best friends Sam and Bucky. It’s his first year of grad school at a local university, and as excited as he is about continuing his art career, he’s even more excited about where he gets to live.

“On your left,” Sam warns light-heartedly, passing Steve where he sits in the porch with his sketchbook in his lap. Sam’s got a box in his arms and is bounding up the porch, full of energy. They’ve spent most of the day moving in and settling into their three-bedroom house. The neighborhood is vibrant, full of other college kids and grad students like themselves. People are walking up and down the street, riding bikes, all getting settled for the fall semester.

“Thought you were only taking a ten minute break?” Bucky asks Steve as he emerges from the door Sam just entered. He’s got a large box underneath his arms. 

“Has it been ten already?” Steve asks, checking his watch.

“Twenty,” Bucky corrects him with a smirk, “Steve ‘I could do this all day’ Rogers. Lucky for you, we only got a few things left to unload.”

Bucky’s got him there. Steve folds his sketch book and hoists himself off the porch. “You and Sam go relax,” He says, taking the box out of Bucky’s hands. “I’ll finish up.”

Bucky grins, gladly handing over the box, “Sir, yes, sir.”

Steve runs the last of their move-in boxes from the truck into the house. Sure, they’ll have to unpack and decorate in the days to come, but this is absolutely half the battle. The sun is just beginning to set in the August sky when Steve pulls the last box out of the bed of the truck. That’s when he notices something out of the corner of his eye.

A black cat goes darting up the sidewalk, right by where Steve is standing. It’s a fast little thing, and he’s wondering if he should put the box down go after it, but it’s then that he notices the girl. With wavy dark hair framing her pale face and bright red lips, she’s one of the most beautiful women Steve’s ever seen. 

“Son of a bitch,” She mutters to herself, only slightly out of breath as she runs up the sidewalk and stops with her hands on her hips. She looks over at Steve, “You see a black cat run by?”

Steve jerks his chin in the direction the cat took, “That way, about thirty seconds ago.”

“Of course,” She rolls her eyes, starting up her jog again.

“You need any help?” Steve calls after her.

“Trust me,” She calls back, “That cat is a demon. You don’t want any part of it.”

It makes Steve chuckle, and he wishes her luck, but she’s too far out of earshot. He tucks the last moving box under his arm and locks up the car. By the time he’s unpacked everything he owns later that night, he’s still thinking about the girl and her black cat, and hoping that he gets the chance to run into her again soon.

As the semester starts, the leaves on the trees change lose their vibrant green color seemingly almost overnight. It’s a dewy, early morning in mid-October when Steve goes out for his daily run, and he can’t keep his eyes off the trees. The shift in their color is subtle, but he knows by this afternoon, they’ll all be fiery red and golden brown. 

His favorite running route includes the stretch of road behind the local cemetery. It might unnerve anyone else, but Steve finds it calming. And at 5:30 a.m., it feels like he has the neighborhood to himself. The sun is only just about to rise, and he enjoys the feeling of being up before the rest of the world. 

That morning, though, someone else is awake, too. 

He spots her before she spots him. It’s the neighborhood girl with the cat, and she’s walking out of the cemetery. She’s wearing a black coat with the hood pulled up, and he’s not sure whether or not she’s trying to look stealthy, but she _is_ inside a graveyard before opening hours.

She’s got a bike parked against the gates with a little basket attached to the handle bars. He doesn’t want to catch her by surprise, but she still hasn’t noticed him approaching yet. “Hey there,” he calls out gently, but she still jumps nonetheless. 

She places one hand against her chest, whipping her head in his direction, “Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me. Thought you were the cops.”

“Didn’t mean to startle you, honest,” Steve apologizes, “Just wanted to say hi.”

That’s when the recognition lights up in her eyes, “Oh, you’re that total beefcake neighbor that helped me find Luna!” She groans, shaking her head, “And I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Steve can feel his cheeks heat up, and he laughs politely as she runs her hands down her face. “Steve Rogers, actually,” He says, extending one hand in and effort to ease her embarrassment. 

“Darcy Lewis,” She takes his hand with more confidence. He’s surprised by the softness of her skin, how delicate it feels in his grasp. “I swear, I mean well, I just don’t have a filter,” She continues to apologize.

“It’s fine,” Steve assures her. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, I snuck up on you outside a cemetery at six in the morning. Usually no one’s out this time of day, it’s not often I run into another early-riser.”

Darcy laughs, the sound a full-bodied melody. “Oh, make no mistake, Steve Rogers, I haven’t even gone to bed yet. Had too much work to get done.”

“You’re taking classes at the university, too?” Steve asks.

“Not exactly,” She answers coyly, biting on her bottom lip. “Would you be down for a cup of coffee? I make a mean French press, and I still owe you one for helping me find my cat that day.”  


Steve is only slightly taken aback by her abruptness. In fact, he appreciates it. The woman is strange, absolutely. With her wild dark brown hair and sparkling eyes, he knows there’s more to her than meets the eye. It only makes Steve want to get to know her more. So it’s a no-brainer that he finds himself walking back to her house with her, just down the street from his own place. 

“Excuse the mess,” Darcy mutters, pushing open her creaky wooden front door and welcoming him inside. The house smells like incense and cinnamon, and Steve is instantly struck by how cozy her living space is. String lights dangle from the ceiling, plants line the shelves, and there are so many candles scattered about that Steve doesn’t bother to count the exact number. 

“Make yourself at home,” She tells him, shrugging off her black jacket and draping it over a plushy chair. “I’ll bring the coffee out in a quick sec.”

Steve spots her black cat, Luna, curled up in a ball and sleeping peacefully on the couch. He gives her a gentle head-scratch, which earns an appreciative purr in response. “I’m glad you found her,” He calls out to Darcy. “Does she run away often?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” comes Darcy’s exasperated response from the kitchen, “She was a gift from my sisters before I left home and moved here. They would kill me if I lost her.”

“Tough family, huh?” Steve asks, eyeing her shelves full of books. There a titles in there he recognizes, some contemporary fiction, some sci-fi, some romance…but there are also some really old looking books. With yellowed and frayed edges and spines that are leather-bound. Ancient looking, almost.

“You could say that,” Darcy says, “We’re not blood-related, but it feels just as strong sometimes.”

“So when you say sisters, you mean like a sorority?” Steve asks, curious. He can smell the coffee brewing now. He wonders if she might need some help carrying the mugs out to the living room.

“Kind of…” Darcy trails off as Steve rounds the corner into her kitchen. Her back is turned to him, standing in front of her kitchen counter. She’s pressing down the handle on her French press, and two mugs and creamer sit just to her right. With the flick of her wrist, the creamer levitates off the counter, pouring steadily into the two mugs.

Steve stares at it, not fully registering what’s happening before his eyes. A magic trick? Trick of the light? Because just as suddenly as it’s happening, the creamer carton is settling back onto the counter. 

“We’re more like a coven,” Darcy explains casually, going to pour the coffee into the mugs. She catches Steve staring at her, and a small grin splits on her lips, “What? Not a fan of creamer?”

Steve shakes his head, his genuine laugh catching himself off-guard. Abrupt was an understatement when it came to this girl. But this new development? Doesn’t exactly freak him out as much as it should. In fact, it kind of makes sense. Maybe not logically, but somehow, some way, it makes sense.

Darcy is a witch. And he could say a lot of things about that right now, but…

“Huge fan of creamer,” Steve gestures with one hand for the mug. He can see the effect his instant acceptance has on her. Her smile brightens, and she hands him his coffee. 

“That’s a relief,” Darcy says, cocking one hip to the side and leaning against the counter, “Let me know how it is. I’ve always thought I make pretty good coffee, but I haven’t ever had anyone over here to tell me otherwise.”

“How long have you lived here?” Steve asks. Though there’s a million other questions burning in the back of his mind, none of them really seem to matter right now in this kitchen, with this woman, and the early morning October light streaming through the windows. The trees outside are shining in their vibrant fall colors, and it casts a warm glow on the woman in front of him.

“Since June,” Darcy says, “Haven’t made too many friends yet. Been busy working on my conjuring. Not my strongest suit, but I’m still learning.”

“You’re always welcome to come hang out at my place,” Steve offers, and he means it. “You know, when you’re not busy conjuring.”

“You know, you’re oddly chill about… _all this_ ,” Darcy says, gesturing with one hand towards herself. He gets the impression that she doesn’t open up like this to everybody. It makes him feel a pang of sympathy. Who wouldn’t want to get to know Darcy Lewis?

Steve shrugs, “Just because I don’t understand something yet, doesn’t mean I can’t accept it.”

Darcy has to bite her lip to keep from smiling, a look Steve finds incredibly endearing. “I like you, Steve Rogers,” She says, raising her mug in a toast. “To new beginnings.”

“And new friends,” Steve says, and in the back of his mind quietly hopes, _and maybe something more_.


End file.
